


Lies We Tell Ourselves

by StormyDaze



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Conditioning, Guilt, M/M, Victim Treated Like a Lover
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-06
Updated: 2019-12-06
Packaged: 2021-02-26 04:54:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,791
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21698056
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StormyDaze/pseuds/StormyDaze
Summary: Steve knows it's wrong, but he's wanted this for so long.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Comments: 5
Kudos: 85
Collections: Consent Issues Exchange 2019





	Lies We Tell Ourselves

**Author's Note:**

  * For [seinmit](https://archiveofourown.org/users/seinmit/gifts).



It’s not like Steve expected Bucky to be the same as the last time he saw him. Hell, Steve isn’t the same as he was 70 years ago, and he slept for most of that time. He knew this was going to be hard.

Some days are harder than others, though.

It’s three in the morning, Steve just got back from a diplomatic mission to Wakanda, he hasn’t slept in about twenty seven hours, and the last thing he wants to deal with is Bucky in full meltdown mode. To say that the kitchen looks like it’s been hit by a tornado is to give tornados more credit than they deserve. Every plate and piece of glassware Steve owns lies in shards on the tile floor. Half the cabinet doors are hanging off their hinges. There are four new metal-fist-sized holes in the drywall. The table now resembles a pile of toothpicks. Steve thinks that perhaps they should start hiring Bucky out to demolition crews, and immediately feels guilty for thinking it.

Bucky’s huddled on the floor in the corner by the sink, knees hugged to his chest, eyes darting every which way. Cuts on his face and his flesh arm drip dark blood.

Steve keeps his movements slow, deliberate, telegraphing everything he does. Bucky’s eyes track him, pupils blown wide. “Hey, Buck,” he says soothingly, kneeling down in a mostly glass-free spot of floor. “It’s all right, buddy. You’re safe. I’m here. I’ve got you, Buck.”

Slowly, so slowly, Bucky relaxes. It’s like Steve can see each individual muscle unclenching as he continues to babble nonsense. He wets a dishtowel in the sink and uses it to wipe off the blood, first on Bucky’s wrist and then on his face. Bucky blinks slowly.

Steve isn’t sure why he does it. He’d like to blame the sleep deprivation, but the more likely answer is that he has Bucky’s face in his hands and Bucky’s big grey eyes on his and he _wants._ He’s been nursing this stupid crush for 80 years. It’s a miracle he’s lasted this long, really.

He gently presses his lips against Bucky’s.

For a second Bucky tenses up beneath him, and Steve is completely sure that he’s going to be making a fifth hole in the wall, this one Captain-America-sized. But then Bucky melts, and if he doesn’t kiss back, exactly, he does open his mouth a little bit for Steve. Steve slips his tongue in to swipe it across the inside of Bucky’s lips before he pulls back. Bucky’s eyes are half closed, and he doesn’t seem to be seeing Steve at all. 

Steve stomach does a series of unpleasant acrobatics.

“Let’s get you in the shower, Bucky,” he says, pulling them both to their feet. Bucky doesn’t protest, doesn’t say anything, but he lets Steve guide him to the bathroom and strip off his clothes. Steve wrestles him into the shower, but all he does is stand there, staring at the wall.

Steve swears quietly under his breath, and then strips and steps into the shower as well.

It’s a tight fit for both of them. Steve grabs a washcloth and gently begins to swipe it over Bucky’s skin, careful of glass shards. Bucky trembles. Steve’s half hard just from being this close, able to touch all the skin rippling over the muscles in Bucky’s back. He makes the mistake of glancing down at Bucky’s ass and jerks gaze back up, but the damage is done. At least Bucky seems out of it enough not to notice, although Steve hates himself for thinking that’s a good thing.

Turning Bucky around to clean his chest almost sends both of them crashing through the shower curtain onto the bathroom floor, but they manage it. Bucky stares, hollow-eyed, at a spot just above Steve’s nose as Steve wipes him down. 

Well, no glass down _there._ Steve jerks his hands back up to Bucky’s chest, but then he’s fixated on Bucky’s nipples. They stand out hard and red from his scared chest, and Steve’s had so many fantasies about taking one between his teeth...

Bucky drops to the floor. Steve panics, wondering if he fell, if he lost consciousness, but he’s just kneeling there. Bucky places a hand on each of Steve’s hips and looks up at him through the shower spray that pastes his long hair to his neck. And then Bucky licks a hot stripe up Steve’s cock, and Steve stops thinking anything at all.

He can’t feel a difference between Bucky’s flesh arm and his metal one. They’re both the same temperature in the hot shower spray, and Bucky grips with the same amount of pressure in each, just enough to hold Steve still. He might actually be holding Steve _up,_ with the way Steve’s legs are shaking so bad.

Steve’s fully hard now, harder than he’s ever been in his life. He braces one hand on the wall and rests the other on Bucky’s head. Not pulling, just... resting it there.

Bucky takes the head of Steve’s cock into his mouth. It’s hotter than the water around them, and it feels so good that Steve can’t help letting his hips thrust a little. Bucky takes it without resistance. He swirls his tongue around the underside of Steve’s cock, humming a little through his nose, his lips plush and sinfully pink as they work Steve’s cock.

Steve wonders idly where Bucky learned to suck cock like this. Before the... before, he’d always gone for dames. Steve dragged him to a couple of hidden queer bars, before the war, and Bucky always went easily enough, but he seemed stiff and cold the entire time they were there. Steve resigned himself to never having Bucky long before he’d started throwing himself at any enlistment office in the area. With the distance of time, he reflected that feeling rejected had probably fueled his desperation to enlist, to prove himself.

It’s hard to reconcile the Bucky that has his mouth around Steve’s cock with the one who took a different girl out every week. The pieces don’t make a good picture, and a cold, nauseating lump forms in Steve’s stomach. But then Bucky leans forward and swallows Steve’s entire length, his hot throat milking Steve’s cock, and Steve shoves the implications aside.

He tangles his hand in Bucky’s hair and shoves his hips forward, pressing his pubic bone into Bucky’s nose. Bucky pulls back a bit, and Steve thrusts forward, back down Bucky’s throat. It feels amazing, hot and wet and tight, better than any blowjob Steve’s ever had, better than a dream. His body seems to be moving without consulting his brain, fucking Bucky’s throat, chasing the orgasm that he can feel building low in his core, because Steve would _never_ do this but here he is. He feels like he’s watching from outside himself, like something has taken him over.

Or maybe he’s just telling himself that to make himself feel better.

Steve groans as he comes, spilling down Bucky’s throat. Bucky swallows it all, not losing a drop.

Steve stands there, panting, braced against the wall, his softening cock still in Bucky’s mouth. Bucky doesn’t move, just looks up at Steve beneath dark lashes.

_Fuck._

Steve practically leaps out of the shower, scrubbing himself dry with the nearest towel. Then he has to drag Bucky out too, and get him dried off, which involves much too much touching for Steve’s emotional wellbeing right now. Bucky still has that blank look in his eyes, and it’s starting to worry Steve. The whole thing is spinning out of control. Steve feels like he’s running too fast downhill, and any second he’s going to trip and fall.

He’s not thinking when he takes Bucky into the bedroom. He only wants to find clothes for them both. But Bucky sees the bed and heads straight for it. He lies down on his back and spreads his legs wide, showing off the sweetest little puckered pink hole Steve has ever seen. In seconds, Steve is rock hard again.

“Please,” Bucky says.

Then Steve’s towel is on the floor and Steve is on top of Bucky, mashing their mouths together. He runs his hands over Bucky’s hips, rubs his cock between Bucky’s legs, kisses him like he’s starving for it. When he comes up for breath, Bucky looks wrecked, cheeks pink and lips red. His hair fans out over the bed, still wet.

“Please,” he says again.

“Fuck,” Steve says. “I’m—I’m gonna make you feel real good, Buck, let me take care of you.”

There’s lube in the bedside drawer, purchased back when Steve was still trying to adjust to this decade and thought he might want to see what it would be like to be queer and not have to hide it. Before Loki, before the Avengers took over his life. The bottle is unopened. Steve pops the cap now and squirts it into his hand, coating his fingers liberally. He slides one finger into Bucky, and Bucky _moans,_ so sinfully filthy. Steve crooks his finger and Bucky _whines._ Steve presses kisses to Bucky’s thighs, his cock, his balls, as he fucks him open with one and then two and then three fingers. Bucky takes them all, wonderfully responsive, letting out a series of little groans and whimpers. 

“Yes,” Steve says. “Let me hear how much you love it, Buck.” The volume of Bucky’s noises increases.

When Steve slides his cock in, he knows he isn’t going to last long. Bucky’s ass is tighter than his throat, hot and slick with lube, and it’s the most wonderful thing he’s ever felt. He presses his mouth over Bucky’s again, swallowing those delicious sounds, and uses his lube-slicked hand to jerk Bucky off in time to his thrusts. 

Steve doesn’t think about what this means. He doesn’t think about what he’s going to do when this is over. Right now he just stays in the moment and lets himself pretend that for the first time in his life, he gets to have everything he’s ever wanted.

He can feel his orgasm building, tight like a coiled spring, and he pulls back a little to look Bucky in the eyes. A man could drown in eyes like those.

“Bucky, I’m gonna—”

“Steve?” Bucky’s brow wrinkles in confusion.

Steve comes like a plane crash, pumping hot come into Bucky’s hole, still jerking Bucky’s cock until Bucky spills all over his hand. For the tiniest second, pleasure whites out all thought.

Steve just manages to roll off Bucky before he collapses. The room is silent except for the sound of breathing. Steve keeps his eyes closed tight. 

They lay there in silence for a long time.


End file.
